


We Live in a Godless World

by apokfan (writing1swat)



Series: On Hold Stories [1]
Category: Smallville, Supernatural, crossover - Fandom
Genre: Action, Adventure, Crossover, Family, Gen, Supernatural - Freeform, canon violence, character list subject to change, only side romance if any, too many characters to list - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing1swat/pseuds/apokfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Supernatural/Smallville crossover; season 1 AU SPN, season 4 AU SV. After putting to rest the poltergeist in their old house in Lawrence, Kansas, Sam Winchester has another vision. Only this time it takes the brothers to Smallville, home of one alien resident Clark Kent and rampant mutants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Harry Potter and his Guardian Angels** is currently put on hold. I am re-watching some Smallville and Supernatural and it got me in the mood to try this crossover again. Please note this is also a WIP (work in progress) so the updates won't come in as fast as **Comrades and Brothers** did. But I am very much inspired so hopefully there will be more to come soon.
> 
> Also, please note that Jason Teague doesn't exist in the story. His mother will though since she seems crucial to the season plot. It's just really kind of weird to have both of Jensen's characters in a story that has a more serious tone. I hope that doesn't discourage anyone from reading.

**Part 1**

 

 

Sam Winchester was walking down an empty road, alone. He passed a small sign and noted absently the word **SMALLVILLE** written on it. No Impala in sight, nor a pain in the ass older brother. It was chilly and dark and he shivered as another breeze caressed his skin through his clothes. He wore a sports jacket; red and yellow, an enlarged ‘S’ on the front. It wasn’t one he recognized and Sam knew instantly he was dreaming this. Suddenly he heard something, far off in the distance. How it was possible he wasn’t so sure. But he didn’t seem to question it. All of a sudden his head swiveled up to the sky, to the dark sky and grey clouds and before he could process what was happening, he was going up and up, higher, higher, in the air. His feet hovered above the ground. Two inches, then three. Then four…five…two feet…five…it kept getting higher still.

Sam tried to snap out of it. He told himself it was a dream. Wake up. His mouth moved in the shape of the words and yet, no sounds came out. He was a puppet with its strings being played with by an invisible master. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then he was shooting forward, still in the air, the wind blowing his hair out. Whoosh. That was the sound he heard all around him as he flew.

He landed in the middle of a field. Sam opened his eyes and saw a barn out in the far distance. A small house, a farm really, stood next to it. He heard a crack of thunder, loud and ringing in his ears, and he nearly collapsed in the sheer loudness of it. Sam covered his ears for a couple minutes, pants coming in harsh breaths. He looked toward the field again. A man stood a few feet away in stark white clothes against the darkness, his back to Sam so he couldn’t see who it was. But he had an inkling of who it was, yet at the same time, he had no clue. But it didn’t matter because soon the man turned, not caring that Sam would see his face.

“Hello, Clark,” the man said, inclining his head. Sam’s first thought was absurdly to note that the man was bald, though whoever this guy was, he didn’t have a clue.

He wanted to point out his name wasn’t ‘Clark’, that the guy was plainly mistaken. However, what came out instead was a gritted, “Lex.” The name held no familiarity to him. Sam wasn’t in control anymore though. The body he inhabited took a step forward without his consent. Suddenly it was like he was looking into a fishbowl, an observer from the outside. “What are you doing here?” His voice was anxious now.

The man, Lex, smiled. His arms spread wide and his eyes closed as he inhaled the nature of the outside world. Then he opened his eyes and looked back at Sam and Sam startled, trying to leap back, but found that his feet remained planted firmly to the ground with an unseen force. Lex’s eyes were pitch black now. And Sam knew that whoever this Lex was, the man that stood before him was not him. Not anymore. And all of Sam’s instincts was to turn tail and flee, run as far away from this creature as he possibly could. If only Sam were in control of his legs, of this body. Instead he felt muscles in his arms flex, his hands clenched into fists. He felt a rush of fear shoot through him but he didn’t run. Instead he waited because Sam had no choice in the matter.

“This world, Clark, it’s meant for a bigger purpose than just to be eventually destroyed by man,” the possessed man said.

Sam could feel his mouth move of its own accord to sneer, “What are you really?”

The demon laughed at him. Then it gazed right back, its black eyes narrowed to slits, its mouth forming a sneer of its own. “Something more powerful than the likes of you and your **kind** ,” it spat out, shaking with a rage that Sam could see even at this distance. “Something better.” It stalked over to him with an inhuman speed but Sam could see it, could track its movements with such ease that the sudden ability that this body possessed left him shaking to his very core. 

Before Sam could come out of his shock, his hand suddenly shot out to grip the demon’s neck. The man sputtered in surprise at the unshakeable strength in his grip. It terrified Sam. Or at least it should have. Instead he felt a rush of something dark course through his body. He felt his grip tighten as he raised the man higher into the air, his gaze dark as he watched. “You have no idea what you’re messing with here,” he said lowly.

Then the man’s head tilted back and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Black smoke shot out into the night sky. Sam watched as his hand suddenly released the man. Lex dropped to the ground in a boneless heap. 

 

 

The dream ended and Sam awoke with a gasp and flailing arms, to loud rock music, the Impala, and his obnoxious older brother at the wheel. He looked around wildly, the remnants of the dream still in him. Dean shot his brother a worried look. “Dude, you okay? Was it another nightmare?”

Sam shook his head to himself, trying to rid of the last of the fear he felt. Dean was watching him carefully in the rearview mirror but Sam still couldn’t quite get his body to relax. “No,” he said.

“A vision then?”

Sam wanted to say ‘no’ but there was a resigned look on his brother’s face now that he knew meant lying to him about this now wasn’t going to do either one any good. “Yeah,” he said instead.

“What was it about this time?”

The rock music was turned off once Sam started to rehash his latest dream and near the end of it all, they were both hungry and irritable and ready to collapse from the stress the last few weeks had brought. Dean drove them to the closest gas station when he realized they were running low on gas. Sam headed into the convenient store to get some snacks for the road. When he came back out with a bag full of Doritos and granola bars and another bag with a six pack of Bud Light, he found his brother leaning against the Impala, waiting, having obviously finished filling her up.

They both got in the car and drove back onto the road. Into the silence, Dean said, “So, where does this ‘vision’ of yours happen at?”

Sam leaned his head against the window as he gazed out into the fields of grass and trees that passed by in blurs. “Smallville. Smallville, Kansas.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up but he didn’t say anything. It was a few hours of this; of Dean not saying a word, not pushing the subject, not trying to get into Sam’s head. Of Sam not saying anything back, trying to focus all his attention to the ever shifting scenery outside the Impala. Of the radio, for once, turned off. Silent, muted, hushed, whatever. Then Sam gave in.

“We have to go there, you know that, Dean.”

He watched as Dean’s expression shifted from a blank mask of calm to a more incredulous stare as he turned to look at his brother. “Why? Because your _dream_ told you so?”

Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Dean, are we really going to start this up again?”

Suddenly Dean pulled the Impala to the side and Sam had to grip the dashboard in both hands to stop himself from crashing head first into it. Dean killed the engine in one swift motion and turned half way to his brother. Sam could see the anxiety on his face as he studied him. 

“Look, Sammy, I get it. You get these dreams sometimes, visions, whatever you want to call them. And yeah okay they came true so far. But Sam, we still don’t know what’s going on. Don’t you still want to find dad and get some answers?”

Sam swallowed at the silent plea in his brother’s eyes for him to try and understand the stress Dean was going through in all this. Dad, Sam, the crusade. Everything. He felt his hands clench tightly in his lap. But his visions were important too, maybe more important than answers for the moment. 

He matched his brother with a grim determination once he made up his mind. “Dean, we have to check this out. Please.” Licking his lips, Sam stared at his brother, hoping to make him see reason. “That guy’s eyes…in my vision, the guy’s eyes flashed black. All black. Like a demon’s. What if…? We can’t just let this slip by and hope it’s just another nightmare.”

Dean swallowed as he digested the information. “And if this is just another nightmare?” he asked softly.

Sam shrugged and stared at the empty road, shivering at how familiar it seemed. “Then we’ll go back to what we do best. Hunting things and saving people.” He turned away from his brother as he heard Dean start up the Impala. He had a feeling he wasn’t wrong. They were needed in Smallville.

Dean cranked up the radio once they were on the road again, this time headed in a new direction. Sam shifted in his seat. A couple hours into the drive, Dean pulled out his cell and tossed it over to Sam who fumbled to catch it. He looked questioningly at his older brother, white knuckled on the wheel and a steely gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Text Dad. Say we can’t take the job.”

Sam texted the message, short and sweet, with trembling fingers wordlessly. He was sure John could arrange for another hunter or two to take the job in Rockford, Illinois. Sam didn’t bother to explain their reasoning in the message. If Dad wanted to know that badly he would eventually call them and it wasn’t as if John had never been secretive with his own sons, sending them around the country on nameless jobs while he did God only knew what.

“Done.” He shut the phone and handed it back to Dean. Dean tucked it into the back of his jeans. In less than an hour they drove past the sign that Sam had seen in his dream. **SMALLVILLE** it read. He remembered this road as well. He walked along it before he flew to the cornfield and face off against a demon. Sam felt shaken. He rubbed absently at his head, an action that caught his brother’s worried eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Just a headache. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”

It was a lie, yet not really a lie. He suddenly felt lightheaded. The world was spinning and spinning and Sam suddenly felt the need to puke. Quickly he rolled down the window. Wind lashed at his face and hair but Sam ignored it as he shot forward and heaved. The Impala had stopped as he let go of the breakfast burritos he and Dean ate before taking off on the road.

After his body heaved out the last of it, Sam stayed where he was for a moment. He still felt dizzy and sick and the headache was hitting him hard now. He gripped the window tightly with both hands but it was a weak grip and he just kind of sagged there, half leaning out the window like his strength had drained out of him. Dean lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Hey man, you done yet?” The words came out soft and Sam nodded, letting his big brother pull him gently back into the car. He slumped into his seat as the window rolled back up. The Impala started up again and Sam closed his eyes, intending on just resting them for only a moment but drifting into a dreamless slumber. Dean drove on.

When Sam opened his eyes back up, they were pulling up to a small motel. He glanced around blearily. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

Dean pulled into an empty parking spot and turned off the engine, then turned to his brother, showing Sam a brilliant grin. “Morning, Princess. Get enough beauty rest? Because we’re here now. Welcome to Smallville.” 

Then Dean turned back to push open the door and hopped out. Sam waited a beat to do the same. He followed his brother into the small motel. Once inside they made a bee line straight for the front desk and ordered a single room with two beds. The man behind the counter shot the brothers an inquisitive look but didn’t make a comment as Dean paid up front with cash.

“So this vision of yours…know when it’ll happen?” Dean asked once they were settled comfortably in the room. Straight to business.

Sam shook his head. “No. But it’ll be sometime at night. It was dark and cold. There were clouds out. I heard thunder in the distance,” he supplied. It rang in my ears almost painfully loud, he thought but didn’t say out loud. When he told Dean about his vision, he left parts of it out. He wasn’t sure why. With the woman in their old house, he told Dean every detail he could remember. With Jess, he left out only his personal feelings toward it. But this, this he felt was different somehow. The inhuman strength he felt in this ‘Clark’ guy. The way he could see the demon’s movements from a mile away with incredible ease. If he told Dean all that, he would have to admit to his own feelings when he was inside this guy…it wasn’t fear that he had felt coiling tight in his chest. Sam felt it, even now, something darker. Something much more sinister. And that he couldn’t own up to his brother. At least not yet.

Dean was biting the bottom of his lip as he mulled over what Sam said. Finally he released a frustrated sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t remember thunderstorms being foreseen for tonight.”

Sam agreed with the reluctant statement. Somehow he knew it wasn’t tonight. So they had some time to investigate in this town. Dean watched him wordlessly from his perch on the bed just across from him. When Sam didn’t say anything, Dean finally addressed the question lingering in Sam’s head, “I saw a small house on the way here. It was a kind of farm I think. Surrounded by a large _field_.” 

They decided to get as much information on the town as they could before they did anything else.

Smallville, as Sam had already predicted, was a small backwater town where everyone seemed to know one another. Which was good and bad in a way. Good because it was easier to extract information from people and be pointed the way to another good source of information once you used up the first. Bad though because while everyone was friendly enough around strangers, they were also wary, cautious. And one thing Sam knew for absolute certain. Small towns usually held deep secrets. And with secrets came lies and tight lips. Sam was certain that Smallville was no exception.

Dean drove them down to the local high school. It was a week day at the beginning of Fall. Thursday. Dean had asked the motel manager if anything strange happened in Smallville. The guy laughed. Said they must really not be from around here if they didn’t know about Smallville and in hushed tones, told them the town history. Meteor shower. Strange stuff happening, rumors of people running around with some...unnatural ‘talents’. Rumors, though he had reiterated at Dean’s increased intrigue.

They hit the local library and read up on it some more. Newspaper clippings showed that Sam’s dream may have been a vision after all. Freakish accidents. Things that couldn’t be explained. Some names came up more than once. It was like this town was a beacon for the paranormal, its own Eureka. He paused at a few articles, his breath catching in his throat, his heart beating fast, his gut churning. “Clark Kent,” he said almost softly.

Sam glanced up at his brother. “I think I know where to go next, Dean.”


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

“So what ruse are we using this time? Because dude, I don’t think posing as FBI agents are gonna fly in a small town like this,” Sam said as he perched himself on the back of the Impala.

They were watching the football field. It was try outs today, apparently. Clark Kent was there. Dean shrugged as he looked warily at his brother. He pursed his lips. “Nah, FBI’s getting kind of old anyhow,” he said. He watched a football fly over the field. Dean caught it expertly before it could sail past them as an older man jogged on over to greet them.

“Hey, nice catch there. I don’t think I’ve seen you two around,” the man said as he accepted the football back. He looked inquisitively at them for a moment before offering his hand. “My name’s Wayne Quigley. I coach football for the school.”

Dean shook his hand and stepped to the side for Sam to do the same. He grinned. “We’re new here. Thinking ‘bout moving in. My name’s Jason Evans, and that’s my brother Scott.” Sam raised an eyebrow at the names. He let out a pained hiss when his brother ‘accidentally’ elbowed him in the ribs.

The football coach laughed. “Well welcome to Smallville, boys. Hope you like it here so far.” His face was open and earnest enough that Sam relaxed and smiled.

“Oh it’s really quaint. The folks here sure are nice,” Sam replied.

“Yeah. Smallville’s a small town, and some the folks might be a ‘lil strange, but once you get to know enough people…” the man shrugged. “I can’t exactly imagine ever retiring elsewhere.”

Just then a boy jogged over from the field to the parking lot. He was pretty big, buff. Almost as tall as Sam. Sam eyed him with recognition. Blue eyes went from the coach to gaze questioningly at Sam. Then he turned back to the older man with a faint smile. “Hey coach. Who’re these guys?”

Wayne startled and looked up to the boy. “Oh, Clark, these are Jason and Scott. They’re brothers,” he explained as he gestured to the Winchesters. 

Clark smiled at them and they all shook hands. “So what brings you guys to Smallville?”

“My brother and I, we’re aspiring writers. Journalists. We heard there was a great college campus around here and were just stopping by to see it before we made any final decisions,” Sam said with an earnest smile. 

“Oh wow really? That sounds cool. You know, I have a friend who’s kind of the school journalist,” Clark said. The silent offer hung in the air. 

Sam’s smile turned into an eager grin. “Do you? Think you can introduce us sometime?”

“Sure,” Clark replied.

The coach watched the exchange with an appraising look. His lips curved in a deep frown as he considered the brothers. “You know,” he started, shifting his attention to Dean, “you caught that football with a familiar ease.”

Dean shrugged, looking down somewhat bashfully. “Aw chucks, sir. I’m sure it wasn’t anything you haven’t seen before.”

“No, no really. I haven’t seen anyone able to catch a football thrown by my man, Clark, here all afternoon. You play any football when you were younger?”

Dean looked up again. If he played his cards right. “A little,” he said with a casual shrug. Sam raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

“Well if you two are short on money. I know college tuitions, supplies and rental—the whole lot, that can get a bit expensive,” the coach said. 

“Sir, we appreciate what you’re trying to do, really we do, but we don’t need any handouts,” Sam said with wide eyes.

Wayne laughed. “I’m not offering handouts here, son. I’m offering you boys a job. As my football coach assistances. I’m getting old. Old enough to think about retiring.”

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. Wayne noticed and shrugged, “It doesn’t have to be permanent. You can come by any time during the week. Try it out for a few days. See if you like it.”

“But don’t you have to apply for this kind of…stuff?” Dean asked warily.

Wayne smiled faintly. “It’s not like being a lawyer or anything like that. Hell, you don’t need any degrees for being an assistant coach. Just a GED.” He turned back to back to the field as some of the boys called out for the coach. “At least consider it. The offer’s open anytime, boys.”

Clark smiled as he followed after the coach. “I’ll see you after the try outs are done if you’re still interested in meeting with Chloe.”

“Chloe? She your girlfriend or something?” Sam called after him.

The teenager laughed. “Nah. She’s the journalist friend I told you about.”

Sam and Dean watched them leave. When they were back on the field, Sam turned to his brother. “Dude, we’re college students now?”

Dean looked at him with a smirk and patted him on the back. “Not far from the truth, Stanford.”

Sam snorted and leaned back. “You gonna take his offer?”

“Well. We need to get close to the student body to figure this thing out. You had a vision of that Clark guy, right?” Sam nodded affirmative. “And then there’s all the weird incidents in this town. Seems like it revolves heavily around the school.” Dean watched as a girl with black hair passed them to the large building. “Or at least the kids that attend here,” he finished.

They waited for Clark for another hour. He came back a little sweaty and breathless from the workout on the field. Dean considered offering him some water but Clark seemed to have already thought of that. The kid took out a water bottle from the duffle bag he had slung over his shoulder, opened it in one swift motion and drank down half the bottle in less than a minute. When he was finished, he dumped it back into his bag.

“Chloe’s probably back in the school,” Clark said, gesturing back to the building. The three weaved their way through the body of students milling around afterhours. “She’s the school’s self-appointed reporter.”

They entered a random classroom and Sam took in all the newspaper clippings hanging from the walls. He was instantly reminded of Dad and how the man liked to cover motel rooms with clippings pertaining to the cases he was on. Dean stepped further into the room, Sam and Clark right behind him. There was a girl with blonde hair sitting behind the desk, focused intently on a computer. She looked up as Clark went to close the door behind them.

“Oh! Hi, Clark. I see you’re…not alone,” the girl, Chloe, noted as she took in the brothers standing awkwardly in front of her.

Dean smiled, extending a hand out as she stood up and walked around the desk. “My name’s Jason Evans and this is my brother, Scott. We’re new in town and we told Clark over there we were interested in journalism. He thought it’d be a good idea to get us to meet you, since you’re the…” he let his voice trail off as he gazed around the room again. “…self-appointed school journalist.”

“Right. Yeah. That’s me. Chloe Sullivan, editor of Smallville High’s Torch, at your service,” Chloe said as she accept handshakes from the brothers.

“Torch?” Sam asked.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “You know, the school’s newspaper?”

“Right. Of course. Sorry,” Sam said, a bit flustered.

Clark cleared his throat and waited for the three to look back at him. “Look, Chloe, I know this is kind of last minute but I have to get going now. You’ll be okay with Chloe, right, guys? There’s just something I need to do. I’ll catch you guys later.” He was gone before anyone could get a word in. Sam blinked in surprise.

Chloe looked at the brothers with an apologetic smile. “He does that a lot. Clark Kent. You’ll get used to it.” Chloe went back to the computer. “Anyways, was there anything you guys wanted to talk about in particular, aspiring journalist to aspiring journalist?”

Dean grinned and tapped on a few of the newspaper clippings on the wall. “Actually, Miss Sullivan. Mind telling us more about the meteor shower?”

“Please, call me Chloe. And what do you want to know about it?”

“Everything you can tell us,” Sam said.

Chloe Sullivan turned out to be the fountain of knowledge they had been looking for. Meteorites rained down all over Kansas over a decade ago. Smallville was hit pretty hard in particular. Chloe had rattled on about the strange happenings in this small town until the brothers were satisfied enough. She glossed over some of the more peculiar cases. Namely how one Clark Kent seemed to be caught at almost every incident as the acclaimed town hero. Dean joked that the guy was like a super hero, a real life Batman without the fancy cape. Sam was sure it ran far deeper.

They found another name that popped up almost as often as Clark’s. That was Alexander Luthor who actually ran ‘Luthor Corp’. It seemed to mean something here with the natives. When Dean asked about the Luthors, he got an almost imperceptible flinch. Sam had blinked and Chloe leaned forward.

“Look guys, as much as I appreciate a fellow journalist’s natural curiosity, I’m going to have to warn you guys now. Don’t go near the Luthors. That’s just asking for trouble,” Chloe said.

The way she said it like she knew from experience only piqued Sam’s curiosity. With the way his brother leaned his elbow lazily on the table, he was sure Dean felt the same. “How do you mean?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

Lex Luthor was definitely the guy from Sam’s vision. Some way, the brothers were going to have to talk to him. But Chloe’s depiction of the man made him out to be some manipulative freak. Sam wasn’t too keen to meet someone like that.

“I do have to admit, though. Lex didn’t turn out half as bad as he could have. He still donates to the school when he can,” Chloe said with a shrug.

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked.

Chloe nodded. “His dad’s much worse. Lex put him in prison last year.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at the new information. “Why would a son put his own dad in prison?”

Chloe shrugged. “Let’s just say, the Luthors aren’t like normal families.”

“I’ll say. Thanks for all the help, Chloe. We have to head out now. Maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

“Sure. No problem. Come by any time if you need more information,” Chloe said as the brothers headed out.

Dean paused by the doorway and flashed an appreciative grin. “Sure thing. I’ll see you sometime this week then.”

They were back at the motel in less than an hour. Dean had claimed the bed closest to the door. He propped his elbows up to look at his brother perched in the chair at the table with his laptop out. Sam paused in his research to give Dean a curious look.

“I’m gonna take the coaching job,” Dean said without preamble. “We need to get close to that Clark Kent kid and it seems easier if I’m at the school.”

Sam nodded his agreement. “Should I check out the Luthors then?”

“Yeah but be careful.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah. I know.”

“I mean it, Sammy.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean.”

“You better, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

 

 

“Hey, Clark. Good to have you home. How’d the try outs go, honey?” Martha Kent asked as her son shrugged out of his jacket and dumped it on a chair.

Clark went in the kitchen to pull his mom into a tight hug, smiling down at her. “It went fine. Coach thinks I’ve got a good arm.”

“Well of course, son,” Johnathan said as he entered the house.

Clark hesitated a moment. “There are these two new guys in town. I think one of them is going to be the new assistant football coach.”

“Oh yeah?”

Clark nodded. “Yeah. Coach Quigley offered the position to this guy named Jason Evans. Dad, you should’ve seen it. He caught my throw and I’ve been throwing practically all day with the guys and no one had been able to keep up with me.”

Johnathan raised an eyebrow at his son’s enthusiasm. “Clark, he caught _your_ throw? You sure?”

“Yeah. Positive.”

“So how’s Lana, today?” Martha asked before the conversation could delve further into the realms of football. 

That got a shrug from Clark as he moved away to help Martha make dinner. “She’s okay I guess. I didn’t get to see much of her since she returned from Paris.”

“But doesn’t she still go to Smallville High? And you haven’t seen her?” Martha asked doubtfully.

Clark pulled a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and poured it into an empty glass. “I think she’s been…avoiding me since she got back.”

At his son’s subdued voice, Johnathan sighed. “I’m sure she’s not trying to avoid you, Clark. She’ll come around.”

Clark wasn’t too sure. Wordlessly Clark downed the glass of milk.

 

 

The more they investigated the town, the more Dean was certain there might be more reason to stay than a potential demon infestation. He tried to watch TV that night but Sam’s squirming made it next to impossible to concentrate on anything else. In the end, he pulled the covers up over his brother and turned off the light. Sam slept fine the rest of the night.

The phone rang early the next morning. Dean grumbled in his sleep as his hand felt around the nightstand for the annoying thing. He pressed ‘talk’ and lifted it to his ear. “ ‘lo?” he mumbled, tugging the bed sheet up to cover his upper torso. At the familiar gruff voice on the other end, Dean jerked awake. “ _Dad_?” He glanced to the next bed to make sure Sam was still sleeping. He was.

“Dean. What’s the meaning behind the text I got?” John asked instantly.

Dean winced. “Sam didn’t tell you?”

“Sam? He texted me? Why would you let your brother do that, Dean? You two are supposed to be following orders. I needed you in Rockford. Where are you two now?”

“Smallville, Kansas, sir,” Dean said. “We can’t go to Rockford, Dad.”

“Why not?” John demanded.

Dean sighed and rubbed his face. “Sam had a vision the other day, Dad.”

“It could’ve just been a nightmare.”

He wished. Dean snorted into the phone. “Actually, I don’t think it was. This town, uh…did you know a meteor shower hit Kansas over a decade ago?”

“A meteor shower?” John’s voice was incredulous on the other end.

“Yeah. It hit Smallville pretty bad in particular. There’s been some…stuff going on in this place,” Dean said grimly.

“What sort of ‘stuff’ we talking about?”

“Um, the…unexplained kind.”

There was a long pause that had Dean wondering if John had hung up. Then, “Great. Well I’ll have Bobby check this ‘Smallville’ out some more. I’ll head on over in a week or so once I wrap it up here in Rockford.” There was a hint of accusation in his voice but Dean tried to ignore it. “We’ll talk about this later, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Keep an eye on your brother in the meantime,” John said. “And be careful.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Dad. I’ll see you in a week then.” They both hung up.


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this isn't how the actual hiring process works for any job so please ignore the inaccurate depiction as best you can.

**Part 3**

Dean decided he couldn’t get back to sleep after the wakeup call he got from John Winchester. He peeked over to the slumbering form of his brother and decided they would both need a shit load of caffeine once he was up. Nodding to himself, he pocketed the keys to the Impala from the nightstand and headed out, determined to find some place that sold some good coffee. It didn’t take as long as he thought to find the Talon, a small coffee shop that seemed to be the Go-To place for everything ranging breakfast to lunch.

It seemed frequented mostly by younger patrons. Dean entered the shop hesitantly unable to hide his surprise by how busy it was this early in the morning. A few heads looked his way as he made his way to the counter. For his part he ignored the staring as he sat on one of the stools, looking up at the menu. He figured since it was a small town people were rather tight knitted, knew every face. He was new, essentially a stranger. Dean let the curiosity linger for a little while longer as a woman came from somewhere in the back. She had a motherly appearance; a kind, if a bit weary face with a cautious but friendly smile. The curiosity seemed die down instantly and everyone went back to whatever they had been doing before he arrived. Interesting response, he thought.

“Hey, new in town? What can I get you?”

Dean licked his lips and thought about that. “Two coffees. Both black. One with whipped cream. And uh put them in plastic cups. Gotta bring one back to my brother,” Dean said with a shrug.

The woman nodded to a girl Dean could’ve sworn he saw yesterday. The girl wrote the orders down and smiled up at Dean. “Anything else?”

Dean shook his head, then paused, studying the girl’s young, earnest face. She went to school with Clark. That much he already knew. Though he suspected he might know who she was. Leaning forward on his elbows, he said, “Uh. Your name isn’t Lana Lang, is it?”

Her eyes widened in surprise and that was enough to confirm it. “My name’s Jason Evans. My brother and I just moved into town yesterday and we talked with your friend, Clark Kent,” Dean explained, watching her relax slightly. The woman with her had been looking at him suspiciously also relaxed. Her eyes lit up as if she already knew who Dean was, even though Dean was sure they never met before.

“I’m Clark’s mother, Martha,” she said in answer to the unspoken question in his eyes.

“Oh. Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said with a blinding smile.

Dean left the Talon an hour later feeling refreshed and somewhat giddy with information he was sure Sam would appreciate. He settled the plastic cup on the table once he made it back to the motel they were staying at. Lana seemed easily charmed when they engaged in conversation at the coffee shop. Then again that wasn’t really anything new. Dean attracted a lot of women wherever he went. He plopped himself down in front of Sam’s laptop and discreetly opened it, intending to get a little more information on the Luthors to see what Sam was getting himself into. The kid seemed dead set on talking to this Luthor guy and there wasn’t anything Dean could do to change his brother’s mind once it was made so he had to make the best of the situation. 

Before Dean could get so much as typing Sam’s password in, he heard his brother shift in his sleep. The sweet aroma of morning coffee wafting in the air roused Sam. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes slowly and focused bleary eyes at Dean, frozen at his laptop. Fingers still hovered over the keyboard once he could see everything more clearly. “Dean?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, retracting his hands quickly. “Hey man, got you coffee over there,” he said pointing awkwardly to the cup that rested on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Thanks. What are you doing on my laptop?”

“Uh. Was gonna check on this Lex Luthor guy,” Dean admitted finally, knowing the jig was up.

Sam quirked an eyebrow as he took a tentative sip of his coffee. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to make sure the guy’s okay for you to talk with.”

“Define ‘okay’.”

“Okay as in he’s not hiding some murder behind his dad’s imprisonment,” Dean clarified.

“Dean, the guy seems like a grade-A asshole from what Chloe told us and what we’ve read through yesterday, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think he’s got it in him to commit murder. No one in this backwater town for that matter,” Sam said.

Dean sighed and pushed off from his chair in defeat. Sam was right as usual. Truthfully he didn’t like his little brother anywhere where he couldn’t keep a close eye on him, and yeah the Luthors seemed like dangerous folks (as dangerous as normal humans could be), but the truth of the matter was that Sam was more than well capable than handling any sticky situation on his own. It was hard to let go after years of ingrained training had him do though. Especially the earlier call from Dad that told Dean to watch out for Sammy, like Sam was still a six year old runt that didn’t know his way around a gun.

Finally, Sam looked at the clock on the nightstand with a grimace. He downed his coffee before he addressed his brother, “Think I need to make some kind of appointment?”

Dean rubbed the side of his face. “A top dog like that? Don’t think he gets many unexpected visitors. Bet the guy got his whole place set up with cameras.”

Sam mulled over the comment, his eyes alight with an idea. “There’s probably only one person that goes to see him without having to be invited,” Sam said.

For some reason, Dean’s thoughts strayed to Clark Kent at his brother’s words. “Guess I’ll go surprise the coach,” he muttered and walked out the room.

Coach Quigley wasn’t as surprised as he had been expecting Dean to show his face at the office, waiting behind a stack of paperwork and a cup of fresh, steaming coffee. Well, two. He offered one to Dean which Dean took with some reluctance. It seemed rude to decline so he drank slowly as he waited for Wayne to finish some of his work before he looked back up at Dean.

“I see your brother isn’t here. I take it he’s not much of a football kind of guy?” It was a joke, Dean knew, but rang with truth.

“Nah, he’s not much of sports kind of guy,” Dean corrected. “He’s more the crosswords-chick-flick geeky type.”

Wayne chuckled good-naturedly as if he could just imagine Sam like that, though most of what he had been told so far were lies, including Dean’s ‘name’. “Here’s the application you need to fill out and then I’ll be happy to hand you the job.” Dean was handed a clipboard of a dozen or so papers.

Dean skimmed through the contents with practiced ease, only reading what he deemed important. Simple enough, he thought to himself in surprise. There were less personal information required to fill as he thought and he took the pen and wrote out all the necessary information within thirty minutes. He handed the clipboard with the pen back and Wayne looked it over. After a couple minutes, he leaned back in his chair and hummed in satisfaction. He smirked at Dean and congratulated him.

“Why don’t you come by later today so I can make the introduction?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be there. Will Clark?”

Wayne furrowed his brows at the interest in Clark Kent. “He should be. Why?”

“Kid’s got a good arm,” Dean said nonchalantly.

“He sure does,” Wayne agreed easily. “You know this is his first time trying out for the football team?”

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. “No. You shitting me?”

“Nah, wish I was.”

 

 

Chloe Sullivan knew weird shit happened in Smallville. Since the meteor shower over a decade ago that hit Kansas, impossible things happened on a somewhat daily basis here. It was in the meteors. The radiation or whatever made people inhuman, changed their DNA. Something like that. And Chloe? She chased after those weird things like a dog after a bone. Maybe that was Chloe’s own gift. Maybe the rocks made her intensely, inhumanly curious. Whatever it was, a deep curiosity to understand the impossible or something running much deeper, it was Chloe that noticed the oddity that was Abby first. Well, aside from all the drooling boys.

To be more precise: _Scabby Abby_. At least that was what everyone called her last year. She wasn’t so scabby now. Her skin was flawless. She had smooth hair where as last year it looked like she didn’t understand the concept of a comb. And this over summer transformation drove Chloe’s weird detector up. Chloe didn’t feel an ounce of jealousy as curiosity flared up, along with a low churning in the pit of her guts that said something definitely fishy was going on in here.

“Isn’t it kinda weird?” Chloe asked in a stage whisper as she and Lois watched Clark stroll up to press himself casually to Abby’s locker in a nervous attempt to look cool. Now that he made the football team, Clark was acting like an obnoxious jock, or at least trying. Chloe still found his attempts cute because as much as Clark was trying to imitate the typical stereotypes found all over high school, he failed miserably and came off as well, a farm boy _trying_ to pose as a jock.

“Tell me about it,” Lois exclaimed, wrinkling her nose at the scene they were being exposed to. “This is why high school sucks.”

Chloe cocked her head to the side, surprised her cousin was being this open about something as trivial as school. Lois looked back at her with a long suffering sigh. “Baby cuz, come on. High school has got to be the most depressing place ever. Why can’t people be more open about being themselves? Their true selves? All anyone cares about is trying to fit in and essentially lying about who they really are.”

Chloe considered that for a moment. She got what Lois was saying but she also understood why Abby would want to change her appearance. It was just the way she went about the change. A summer dedicated to completely changing a person’s appearance. She thought back to her earlier inspection of Abby and wondered if this was truly a meteorite weird or a more normal (yet) somewhat obsessed with beauty weird. Either way, Chloe decided it would make for an interesting article.

Clark joined them a moment later as Abby sauntered away. He was eager when he talked about her, like her appearance changed something in the way he looked at her now, like appearances made all the difference in someone instead of personality. Chloe decided she disliked this Clark a little more. He was trying way too hard now a day to convince people he was a jock because he made the cut. Abby isn’t the only person who changed, Chloe thought.

School couldn’t have passed by slower. Chloe found herself seated on the edge of the bleachers by the field after school. Coach Quigley introduced the new blonde guy that Chloe met yesterday. Jason Evans. It was interesting to find him the new assistant coach. Interesting and somewhat surprising. Chloe admitted that she hadn’t been expecting to see him so soon. She leaned back to watch as Jason whistled a few times and whipped out orders to the football team as easy as breathing. 

“No! Come on, Clark, that’s not how you do it. Here, stand back. Let me show you guys how it’s done,” Jason said and all the guys stopped and hurried out of the obstacle course. He went through the mini course with practiced ease, his movements quick and graceful. When he got to the end, he looked up with a smug smirk to the silent awe of the football team. It was funny because while Jason was a huge guy, most the football team towered over him and was bulkier and all the guys looked wiped, sweating in the hot glare of the sun. Jason hadn’t so much as broke a sweat.

For a new guy, Chloe liked him. He seemed decent, both he and his brother. For some reason though, there was a familiar churning in the pit of her guts as she watched him hand a bottle of water from the cooler to Clark. He patted his back and said something too low for Chloe to hear but whatever it was, it had both them and a few other guys near laughing. She tried to stomp down on the uneasy feeling boiling in her guts. 

Lois came by a couple minutes before the end of practice and whistled appreciatively, her eyes lingering on both Clark and Jason. “Who’s the guy next to Clark?” she asked in a low whisper.

“Jason Evans,” Chloe whispered back.

“That supposed to mean something?”

“New coach,” Chloe said with a shrug.

“Oh.” She paused for a moment. “He’s hot.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and they both watched as Clark turned and caught sight of them before jogging on over.

 

 

Lex Luthor was studying the map again. He was getting closer to figuring it out he was sure. Just a little more time and maybe a little more money to invest in its secrets, and he’d have the whole mystery unraveled. He looked up as he heard a sharp knock on the door to his office. He wasn’t expecting company today. He sighed as he figured who it could be. What came to mind were several names and none of them were all that appealing to have a confrontation with.

“Come in. It’s unlocked,” he called out.

The door creaked open and an unfamiliar face popped in. A young man that looked vaguely like Clark Kent with a mop of brown hair and large, dark eyes walked in without preamble. He stopped to stand just a few feet from Lex, his eyes intense to study Lex. Lex cleared his throat, making the other man jump slightly in surprise.

“Who are you and should I be calling security?” Lex asked.

The young man laughed and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “No. Calling security would probably be a bad idea.”

Lex arched an eyebrow. “Why would it be a bad idea?”

“If you call security now, I can almost guarantee your life will be in danger.”


End file.
